Country Connections by James and Ellen Perry
Circa 1954: Rose Hill School, five miles north of Maynardville, Tennessee, on Highway 33
Jerald, Johnny Milton, Howard, Dan, Jerry, and Larry, let me tell you what I heard the teachers talking about. I just heard the big room teacher tell the little room teacher that Frank Carter will be here Monday in the big room ’til he gets all the big boys straightened out. I heard that he has three or four boys beginning with Ken to get a lesson in humility by his paddle Monday morning. They better put on three or four pair of shorts or something. Johnny Milton, always a skeptic, asked how I heard this bad news.
Well, I was putting the erasers back on the blackboards and they were just talking away and didn’t notice me.
They all just looked at each other with fear in their eyes ’cause we knew we would have to lay low until he left. Age didn't mean anything to Frank Carter, as he could whip our tails as soon as he planned to get the big boys who were causing the teacher so much trouble.
We all were glad they were going to have sore hind ends because they picked on us younger kids. When I told my daddy and mom about Frank Carter coming to straighten out Rose Hill Grammar School daddy said it was time for the boys to pay the preacher.
Well, then, paying the preacher was one thing, but we all would have to lay low ‘til Frank Carter left.
“Shore ’nuf,” Monday morning here was Frank Carter waiting for the school bus. The big boys were sure caught by surprise when they all got to school. The tail busting started soon after the bell rung. Those boys, some had failed three or four times, sure had a sad look on their faces all day Monday. It’s amazing how quiet and nice the troublemakers were after their blue jeans had the dust knocked out. I guess they paid their first installment to the preacher.
Back to the beginning of this story—Frank Carter was born January 31, 1903. His father was Robert Lee Carter. His mother was Laura Melvina Whited Carter. Frank had five sisters and four brothers.
Frank married Myrtle Sharpe on September 26, 1924. Frank and Myrtle had three daughters and five sons. Son number five was Roy Carter, who was the Union County Court Clerk and he also served as Union County Executive. Roy was the father of Dr. Jimmy Carter who now serves as Director of Schools in Union County. Their seventh child is Carlos Carter who married Martha Jean Atkins, served in the Army in Korea, worked at Rohm and Haas of Tennessee, then became a real estate broker and appraiser and has a PhD in business and management.
In the 1930s, Frank worked at the Oak Ridge Plant as a guard. Then at the beginning of World II he worked at Fulton’s in Knoxville, inspecting shell casings to be used by the military. In 1945 Frank went back to teaching at Rose Hill School. In the early 1950s Myrtle took a job as pastry chef at Horace Maynard High School.
Frank had typhoid fever at 10 years of age which caused one of his hips not to develop. This caused one leg to be eight inches shorter than the other.
Frank began teaching at the age of 18. He rode a horse to school which was around 1921. At that time there was very few automobiles in upper East Tennessee. My paternal grandparents never owned a car.
Frank held pie suppers to help with the expenses of lunch programs. Frank taught school for 10 years, then took employment at Oak Ridge and then Knoxville. He started teaching again at Rose Hill School in 1943.
Frank always had books and other material at home for his children to read and learn. If they asked him how to spell something, he would tell them to look it up. That meant to get out the dictionary and find the word and not only see how it was spelled but read the definition and see how it was used.
Frank taught school for most of his life and was well respected in the profession. People would often request that he be assigned to a school in their community. He had a reputation of being a strict disciplinarian.
As strict as he was in school, he was just as strict with his children at home. If his children wanted to do something they had to ask, even if it was to go to the neighbor’s next door. If he said no there was no use to ask why. His answer was because I said so.
There was no such thing as “time out” at Frank’s house. It had not been invented there. One of his children said he would much rather had several “time outs” than just one of the alternative. For him “time out” was only in sports.
Frank loved to teach and was just as eager to learn. Because he was crippled he used a walking cane with a crooked end. One of his associate teachers told of the time a group of boys was walking past him and he put the crooked end around one boy’s neck that was causing a problem. He said, “Come here boy.”
He had a talk with the boy and then said, “You don’t want me to have a talk with you again.” He had no more problems with the boy.
Frank often taught outside the books. Once he taught all the grades in his room how to turn limestone rocks into lime and they even put an egg into a coke bottle.
During tax time Frank was busy filing taxes for people. Because of the condition of Frank’s hip and leg it was painful for him to sit. He usually stood on his good leg while he taught. Because of that, what he called his good leg was badly swollen. It was very large while his crippled leg was very small.
One year at Rose Hill School a blood vessel burst in his so-called good leg. He could hardly bear to stand on it because of the pain. It was close to the end of the school year so he would lie on a table and finish the school year. He was totally dedicated to whatever he was doing.
Teachers had to take continuing education courses. Frank took his courses at the University of Tennessee. He had to take an art class one year. Frank could not draw anything. One time the instructor gave an assignment for each student to select something of their choice to draw for credit. Frank drew a line up the paper, circled at the top and back down. At the top of the paper he placed a dot. The instructor asked him what it was. Frank said it’s a rabbit. The instructor said he didn’t see a rabbit.
Franks said yes, the rabbit is over the hill and that was just the tip of its tail. The instructor laughed and said, “I’m going to give you an “A” not for art but for imagination.”
As I sit on my porch in the afternoon sun remembering Frank Carter from a distance of nearly seven decades a smile comes across my face. I remember how a small schoolteacher with a big heart and solid determination could tame unruly, overgrown upper teenage boys with only part of an ash tree that had been shaped by him to get its message across. It did a splendid job. That ash instrument delivered at the right bodily location with the right amount of pressure made miraculous attitude changes instantly. It also impressed on younger minds when you heard that Whop!! followed by a loud Yelp!! not to be caught in the same teenage trap once we entered our teenage years.
Anyway, I am glad looking back that we had a man like Frank Carter to correct situations at the elementary schools of Union County. Too bad that the schools of today do not have a Frank Carter. Thank you, Frank Carter.